


Tactics

by LeChatRouge673



Series: Thea's Song [18]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 10:52:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16366478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeChatRouge673/pseuds/LeChatRouge673
Summary: Prompted by @theearlkindagay on Tumblr.





	Tactics

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by @theearlkindagay on Tumblr.

Loghain Mac Tir was not, despite popular misconception, a politician. He was a military strategist and a former general, and while he had managed to run Gwaren teyrnir without it dropping into the sea, he also did not deny that his daughter and his wife were far better suited to that world than he was. Which was why he did not understand why he needed to make an appearance at any of the dull, agonizingly long diplomatic parties that were a matter of course for the crown.

“ _Why_ did she have to schedule this inane exercise for while we were in Denerim?” Loghain grumbled beneath his breath, and Theadosia placed a hand on his knee beneath the table.

“It is an intimidation tactic,” she replied quietly, her trademark half smile set on her lips. “Eamon Guerrin is here and pushing for more representation for Redcliffe. Which is idiotic, because if anything, his arling has decreased in political and economic value significantly over the past century. He seems to be under the impression that simply because Redcliffe _was_ important, it deserves a more vocal seat at the table.”

“You can’t be serious,” Loghain huffed. “What exactly does Redcliffe even contribute anymore?”

Theadosia gave his leg a gentle squeeze. _When did her hand shift up to my thigh?_ “Not much,” she shrugged. “Tourism, mostly. It is a historically significant site, and you know I will acknowledge that. From a trade perspective they are just shy of useless. Anything produced there could easily, and perhaps more cheaply, be acquired elsewhere. Seawolf and Steed maintains the Redcliffe trade as a gesture of national loyalty, but if Eamon decides to force our hand we can easily sidestep his bullshit. He has diplomatic ties to Orlais or course, given his harpy of a wife, but we have plenty of those as well.”

She reached out with the hand that wasn’t currently shifting higher up his leg and picked up her wineglass, taking a delicate sip as though they were simply discussing something as innocuous as the weather. “Eamon is fading into irrelevance, and he is desperately trying to claw his way back into some measure of worth. Anora purposely planned this event so that we would be here, because we are making a statement: a Mac Tir sits on the throne of Ferelden. A Mac Tir controls Gwaren, one of our country’s two most valuable ports. And a Mac Tir and a Howe control 90% of Ferelden’s trade. So we are here, my love, because Eamon needs to be reminded that he and his little arling mean very little in the grand scheme of Fereldan politics.”

Loghain stared at her for a moment. “Sometimes,” he said slowly, “I forget how very ruthless you can be.”

She turned to face him, her smile shifting to something more suggestive. “You say that as if you did not enjoy it.”

“Oh, I _never_ said that,” he corrected, leaning down and brushing a deceptively chaste kiss against her temple. “But between listening to you eviscerate Eamon and your hand that has not so subtly been working its way up my thigh, it is going to be very difficult for me to suffer through the rest of this evening.”

“You really think I did not plan for that?” She looked up at him, storm blue eyes wider and more innocent than they had any right to be. “The other guests are now on their second or third round of drinks. In three minutes, you are going to slip away from the table and head to your old rooms in the residential wing. Ten minutes after that, I am going to leave the table and join you. You and I are going to… relieve some stress… and then return together.”

He stared at her for a moment. “Are you seriously politicizing sex?” He whispered.

“Hardly,” she snorted. “Loghain, you were going to fuck me senseless regardless. The fact that my flushed cheeks and tousled hair are going to give Eamon an aneurism is simply a bonus.” Theadosia hid her teasing smile behind another sip of wine. “Of course, if you would rather wait until we got home…”

“You already damn well know the answer to that, you impossible woman,” Loghain whispered against her ear, smiling slightly at the subtle hitch in her breath. He loved it when she was impatient. He stood up from the table. “I’ll see you in ten minutes,” he told her under his breath.

“Well…” she laughed quietly, “Let’s see if I last that long.”

 


End file.
